


Asking For It

by Aproposofnothing11



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield Bonding, Billy Hargrove Is Bad at Feelings, Child Abuse, Gen, Internalized Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27159529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aproposofnothing11/pseuds/Aproposofnothing11
Summary: Yet another "What happened to Max and Billy after the events of the Season 2 finale?" fic.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	Asking For It

Billy’s old man likes to say sometimes, "Boy, now you’re really asking for it."

When Billy was a little kid, he hated hearing that, didn’t understand it one bit. He wasn’t asking for it. Who would ask to get shoved around and slapped across the face and belted?

But now that he’s older, has more perspective, he realizes his dad is onto something.

The fact is, Billy can’t stand when things are quiet.

He knows from experience that quiet is usually one of two things: a charade, a lie (Exhibit A: the “togetherness” of compulsory weeknight family dinners), or the good old calm before the storm, downtime until the real action begins (Exhibit B: his father’s creepy stillness when he’s had an especially bad day at work).

The problem is that his dad has been almost nothing but quiet since they moved to Hawkins. A snarl here, a smack there, but no fireworks. No epic beatdowns. No wrath of Neil.

It’s like Billy's supposed to relax or something.

Good thing he can detect the absolute bullshit; he’s played this game of chicken with dad before, just never for so long.

The worst thing about it, Billy thinks, is that he spends the whole time anticipating when and how it will end. Makes him feel jumpy all the time, like a middle schooler walking through a haunted house. If this goes on long enough, his stomach starts to permanently take on that queasy feeling of a rollercoaster cresting the peak of the track and beginning its descent.

Sometimes, you just have to cut to the chase, get it over with, so you don’t lose your mind or your lunch.

Sometimes, you have to ask for it.

*******************

The time comes, loud and clear, when Billy’s driving Max back from the Byers house. He wakes up with a throbbing headache and the Chief of Police – Hopper? – hauling him out the door. It’s still nighttime. Hopper forces Billy through a sobriety test on the front lawn, which he passes, somehow (not his first rodeo). He thinks he’s being arrested for beating Steve Harrington to death but then he clocks a distinctive sweep of hair – the guy’s slumped on the front steps of the house, that goddamn nail-bat at his feet, half-asleep but alive.

Billy would be embarrassed by how thankful he feels if anyone knew.

Instead of arresting Billy for assault, the Chief drags him to the Camaro, opens the door, and deposits him in the driver’s seat. Throws his leather jacket in after him. To Billy’s astonishment, Max is in the front passenger seat, scowling at him.

She’s also inexplicably filthy; even in the dark, he can see that her face is coated with grime and sweat.

“What the fuck?” Billy says, but there’s no bite. He’s so thirsty. The insides of his mouth stick together.

Chief Hopper hasn’t shut the door yet. He leans in and glowers at Billy. He looks dog-tired. “You seem fit to drive. The two of you go straight home, y’hear? No fucking around.”

Billy’s asshole instincts are dulled by his own exhaustion and bewilderment. He just nods. The keys are in the ignition. He starts the car, Hopper slams the door, and they’re headed toward home sweet home.

The drive is silent for a few minutes except for their breathing. He can tell that his seat’s been adjusted, and the car’s handling funny, like maybe something’s out of alignment. He frowns. He knows Max did something to make him stop attacking Harrington. What did she do? It’s so blurry.

He sneaks a glance at her.

“What the hell happened?”

Silence. He rolls his eyes. Predictable little bitch. New tack.

“What are you going to tell them?”

Them needs no elaboration, but it gets Max’s attention. She shrugs, absolutely confident. “I’ll think of something.”

Billy doubts it. She doesn’t have the look of someone who is coming up with a foolproof lie. She’s leaning with her forehead against the window, her eyes dreamy, a thousand-yard stare in her eyes, like she’s somewhere way more interesting than this car. It might be that she’s even got a tiny smile on her face. She doesn’t look worried one little bit, and that worries Billy, if he’s being honest.

Billy may have fallen hard tonight, but little Maxine should not be under the impression that she can fight monsters.

*******************

Sure enough, they return to Cherry, and Maxine almost instantly loses her cool. Dad and Susan are waiting on the front step, lit up like actors in the porchlight – they must’ve heard the car approaching – and Max shoots out her side like a cannonball into the arms of her wailing mother. You’d think she was a soldier returning from war.

The happy reunion makes it all the way inside before Neil contributes his signature tenderness.

“Maxine, you were way out of line tonight!” Although calm, his voice is like a bang, harsh and clear and abrasive to your ears. Billy positions himself against the closed door, leaning against it for steadiness. He’s so tired.

Susan and Max pause in their blubbering and look at Neil in shock. He doesn’t typically talk to the ladies of the house this way.

“N-Neil…” Susan stammers, “Wait. Max, we’re just glad to –“

“Susan,” Neil interrupts, patiently, like he’s talking to a very simple adult. He takes a step closer, and Susan and Max both unconsciously take a small step away. “You were out of your mind with worry. That is unacceptable. There must be consequences. And look at the state of her!”

Susan holds Max at arm’s length and takes in her appearance for the first time. “Maxine,” she says, sounding shocked. “What on earth did you get into?”

And that’s your cue, Max! Billy thinks. He considers providing jazz hands. (Dad would love that.) He considers faking a seizure.

Max, meanwhile, is doing her best impression of a goldfish.

A dumb, bitchy, defenseless, clueless, innocent, redheaded goldfish that nobody asked for but here we are.

Neil has never hit Max. And truthfully, Billy doesn’t think he ever will; it’s taboo, like mentioning that Billy has a mother. All of Susan’s spine, what little there is to speak of, is dedicated to keeping that girl clothed, fed, and physically undamaged.

But here’s the truth. There are so many ways to hurt someone without ever hitting them. Billy would know. He dances around the line with Max himself all the time. And as awful as Billy can be? His dad is worse. A thousand times worse. Billy learned from the best at being the worst.

And, so, Billy pushes himself from his position leaning against the door and interjects, casual as be, “She snuck out to play her dragon game with her little nerd friends. Found her at one of their houses. One of the older brothers told me that some guys from school were having a bonfire out on a farm. Said a girl I wanted to see would be there. I wanted to check it out, so we took the kids and swung by. Maxine and her playmates hung out with some farm animals. I think they fed the horses.”

It’s completely, utterly ridiculous.

But Billy is counting on three things:

1) Billy has no real concept of what rural Indiana teenagers do for fun beyond drinking and drugs, but neither do Neil and Susan;

2) Susan will be touched that Billy voluntarily did something with Max and her friends, however inappropriate the time and place; and furthermore,

3) Neil will be far more interested in raging at Billy, a feeling as familiar and comfortable to his dad as an old sweater, than in having a logical explanation for what transpired that evening.

“So let me get this straight,” Billy’s dad says slowly, like he’s really trying to understand, as Max blinks at them all like a blank porcelain doll. “I told you to bring your little sister home, and you brought her to a high school party instead?”

Billy pauses for dramatic effect, then brings it home: “She’s not my sister!”

Susan lets out a tiny gasp. Neil pinches the bridge of his nose, sighs: “Son, you are really asking for it.”

*******************

Later, Billy is lying in bed, on his stomach, in the dark.

Everything is finally quiet, and it’s not the fake, loaded quiet from before, but a true calm, like after a long cry when there’s just nothing left.

For a stretch, everything was chaos – Billy’s dad grabbing him by the hair, pulling him to his room, pushing him to his hands and knees on the floor. As his shirt was yanked from his body, the fabric tearing a little, a button popping off, Billy flashed to earlier in the evening, his own reflection in the mirror, revving himself up for his date, a friend of Carol’s, Katy or Kathy, some stupid bitch, he didn’t give a shit, just needed to get off, it was what everyone was expecting of him by now, he’d just fucking hoped he could get it up, not like that last time before they moved –

Then his dad’s belt had started to rain down, along with his dad’s words, and Billy had managed to glide away in his own mind, floating along like he did on the waves when he was little.

Eventually his dad had blurred into Susan. This is their routine when his dad has been particularly harsh, largely because Billy is usually too beaten down to resist or bite her head off. When Neil clears out, she creeps in and cleans up. Helps him undress to his briefs with the professional efficiency and distance of a nurse. Puts disinfectant on the welts on his back and arms. Leaves a glass of water by his bedside. If there’s school the next day, she’ll call in an absence for him.

They don’t exchange a word and they never acknowledge this happens. Billy would rather die.

He’s listening now to the sound of his own breathing, noticing how the stripes on his back seem to pulse with the beating of his heart, when a very tiny little knock at the door almost sends him crashing off the bed.

“Susan?” he whisper-shouts. Why is she back? She should be asleep.

“It’s me,” an unmistakable, infuriating voice whisper-shouts back through the cracked door.

“Goddammit, Maxine, go back to your room!” Billy snaps, propping himself up on his elbows, but she’s already slipped inside, all showered and dolled up for bed by her mother. She crouches by his bedside in the moonlight, taking him in with a steady gaze. He’s sure she heard everything, but now she gets to see it too – he’s uncovered from the waist up. Normally, he’d bare his teeth and try to drive her away, but one thing is clear: she doesn’t fear him the way she once did.

“Don’t you fucking feel sorry for me,” he says, surprising both of them.

“I don’t,” she responds instantly and unconvincingly.

They’re both speaking under their breaths. The worst thing would be for Neil to catch them now.

“I didn’t ask for that,” she says.

“For what?”

“For you to cover for me like that.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t seem to have a plan.” He shrugs, and winces.

She notices and can’t help but wince in sympathy. “He wouldn’t have done that to me, though.”

“Yeah, no shit,” he says bitterly. Then, more neutrally: “There’s other things he could’ve done. Trust me, you don’t want to be on his radar. He’s a real monster when he wants to be.”

Max just stares at him for a long moment. He starts to wonder if she’s malfunctioned or something.

Then suddenly she looks about a million years old, says, “After you beat up Steve, I thought I could never forgive you. But then you did what you did for me with your dad. I think you want to be better, Billy. I’ve just really had enough of monsters. I really want you to be less of one, OK? I’m asking you.”

Then she leaves, and he finally sleeps.


End file.
